


Stormbringer

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mer!Nyx, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 15:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Noctis already knew all about the creature that carried the storms across the oceans of Eos. But he had never actually expected to see the creature in the Citadel of Insomnia.





	Stormbringer

Nyx came on the storms, with the white tipped waves and the sky shattering across the open seas. He came approached the shore among the towering, rolling dark clouds and silently beneath the rushing winds that had veterans of the coastlines shuttering their windows. He arrived cloaked in the darkness of an absolute and restless night, when the winds and rains and rolling thunder echoing off the rocks sent people used to the changeable seas skittering inside, their nets and traps and sturdy lines lost to the rocks and weeds and waves. 

Noctis had met him during a storm like this, when the narrow mountain roads that wove their way through Cleigne had washed out. When the days were dreary and dark and he fretted over the dwindling stores of food in the little borrowed cabin. When he thought to try the washed out truck again and again, and brave the sleek, slick roads that threatened to flood until he was far enough away from the isolated little getaway to call for help. To call for a friend or a protector, to just see those little bars against the black of his phone’s screen to remind him that the world was still out there. That the kingdom still existed beyond the walls of the downpour. 

But Nyx had arrived with a sheepish smile on the doorstep. 

“Stop it,” Noctis could say now, when the water sloshed against his boat. When the storm clouds gathered in the distance, threatening to overtake the calm blue of the summer day out on the open seas. “You’ll scare the fish away.”

People had warned him away from the open waters and the creatures that lurked in the depths. They had bowed and smiled as they always did— for their prince with his foolish hobbies— and told him stories as he watched the boat be prepared for his trip. They told him about the daemons that prowled the coast at night, that would flood the cabin the moment the lights flickered and the dark closed in. They told him of the creatures that slept within the forests of kelp along his favoured coast, that would wake to drag his lures deeper than he could manage. 

And they told him of Nyx. 

The creature of the ruined islands. Where the red pulse of the Solheim ruins beat in time with the tides. Where the sea water cut through canyons like the serpentine body of Leviathan herself— a stormbringer rather than the Tidemother in those broken islands. There was the prowling warlord who guarded the island depths and the jagged cliffs, cloaked in the tough hides of daemons and sea creatures alike and carrying weapons of bone and Solheim curses. They told him about the creature, with his dark skin and starlit eyes, the inhuman tail that let him move faster that Leviathan herself in the dark waters, strange markings on his skin and blood in his wake.

“There’s plenty of fish, my little star.”

Noctis found that the stories left out the best parts about Nyx. 

Like how he would shed the night-dark tail— coloured by scales so red and blue that some looked black and purple in the stormy lights— as he climbed aboard Noctis’ boat, or onto the stony shores. Traded for the long legs of a man (who often forgot where he stashed his pants, Noctis was learning) for a night, or day, or longer as he wanted, when he wanted. Such as now, as he settled with his feet in the water and a wolfish grin on his features. They never talked about the little gifts he brought from the ocean depths or distant coasts; the fish that were delicacies back in Noctis’ city, and the clams and muscles and oysters that he kept in a bag woven of sea grass and kelp. Or the beads made of pearl and sea glass and driftwood plaited into his hair like decorations, which he undid and shook out every time he emerged from the water to visit. 

Or how he preened like a cat in the sun, and curled close in the storms that shook the little borrowed cabin when Noctis returned to shore. 

Noctis supposed not many of the men and women who warned him away from the deep waters had the chance to really learn much of Nyx. 

Such as how he shrugged off the cloak he wore and set his weapons aside easily and willingly, as he moved from water to boat and back again with a smile. How he trailed often on the mirror calm ocean when Noctis let himself linger— lulled to sleep by the gentle sea— watching the stars with Noctis. 

“Then shut up so I can catch some of them.”

And Nyx would obey, with an amused look as he lounged in all his glory on the lower stoop of the boat, where the water threatened to rise with each roll of the ocean. Where Nyx stretched and waited and the clouds in the distance grew darker in his masked impatience. Until Noctis’ frequent glances turned to a frustrated grumble and the line was reeled in. 

“I thought you were fishing.” Nyx would say it without opening his eyes to the sun. Not until Noctis’ shadow blocked the afternoon light. 

“I should dump you in the hold,” Noctis would respond to the infuriating smile, moving until he was settled on Nyx’s lap and the other man’s hands steading him by the thighs. “And take you home to show off like a catch. Stick you in the aquarium.”

“Or,” Nyx’s hands were more impatient than his tone, and the sea born storms in his eyes a promise to cut off the rest of the world until it was just the two of them; “I could steal you away to my islands. Strand you, my little star, and keep you to myself.”

“I’d put you on display,” Noctis threatened, nipping at the lips that he thought were unfairly sweet for such a salty home. “So everyone knew I caught you.”

“I’d keep you to hidden away from the world,” Nyx answered between the kisses; “Until you only thought of me.”

“Maybe I already do.”

“Then I’m halfway there.”

The boat’s cabin was spartan at best, just a little corner shielded from the hold, where the rocking of the waves would move them together until Nyx let the storms sweep over them in the night. The engine would be deafening if not turned off for the night, the waves terrifying if not for their master wrapped around Noctis in the narrow bed. Noctis would stutter through his check ins in the early morning, and late nights, when Ignis and Gladio threatened to drag him home to the safety of sturdy land and the safer shelters. He would wave off their concerns with a smile and a promise, while Nyx beckoned him back to bed as the storm’s passed and they settled together again. 

Back home, in the towers of the Citadel, Noctis would study the maps they had of Galahd. He would put stories to the names and places he read, and trace the outline of the coasts with a curious touch, remembering the smiles Nyx offered when Noctis traced the markings on his skin. He would watch the storms on the sea, when he was close to the gates and the harbours and waited for the next time he could steal away. He would smile as he watched the exotic, and strange fish in the royal aquarium circle their enclosure, and wonder if they thought of the open waters too. 

At least, he did until he was summoned to the throne room one day to greet a visiting envoy. 

They had a gift, was the rumour. The Niflheim visitors, clad in their pristine whites. They had a gift for the Crown Prince, as an offering of peace. As a proposal of allegiance from one prince to another. A promise of good faith in the shape of a creature in a tank, hands chained and tail wrapped in a net, lounging as if neither was a burden under the awe and gasps of the Lucian nobility. 

“A prize,” Ravus offered with an air of rehearsal that Noctis knew well; “for the Crown Prince of Lucis. Captured in the Solheim ruins, it killed most of the garrison that tried to take it.”

And Noctis— his features schooled, as aloof as Ravus to mirror the haughty air of royalty he rarely felt despite his position— offered; “Maybe they deserved it for trying to steal what they shouldn’t have?”

He could pretend not to notice the smug little smile from the captive creature in the tank. And Ravus conceded with a slight nod, “Perhaps they did. But this creature is yours. Or the Empire’s if you refuse.”

“And Tenebrae rarely offers any gift,” Regis interjected from his throne; “I doubt we have anything to offer that’s as valuable.”

“No,” Ravus agreed, “You wouldn’t. But I am willing to settle for less. A year in Lucis, as your guest.”

“That’s all?” Noctis started down the steps, intent on the chained creature now listening far more intently. “Hiding from your Nif masters?”

The murmur of disapproval flowed the gathered crowd like a wave, and distant thunder rolled across the city outside. Ravus stepped between the tank and the prince; “Courting an ally, Lucian.”


End file.
